


The tongueless vigil, and all the pain

by meverri



Series: TMA Femslash Week 2019.5 [2]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/F, Nightmares, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:02:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22052983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meverri/pseuds/meverri
Summary: Daisy comforts Basira after a nightmare. (Day 2: Dreams)
Relationships: Basira Hussain/Alice "Daisy" Tonner
Series: TMA Femslash Week 2019.5 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1586128
Comments: 6
Kudos: 30
Collections: The Magnus Archives Femslash Week 2019.5





	The tongueless vigil, and all the pain

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on tumblr @hundred-separate-lines

Daisy isn’t precisely sure what wakes her up – the wind, maybe, or maybe Basira shifting beside her, or the rain splashing against the window – but when she does, the first thing she hears is a muted whine coming from somewhere to her right.

Beside her, Basira has buried herself in blankets like she always does, tangled in the sheets even on the hottest summer nights. She likes the pressure, she’d once explained, and back then so had Daisy, though now she has to wear warm pajamas and forgo blankets on all but the coldest evenings. Basira likes to sleep in a tee shirt and underwear, and her shirt is tangled in the sheets, too, hitching up to reveal her stomach, the trail of soft dark hair that leads from her belly button down below the line of white elastic on her underwear. Her hair is up in a loose bun, the same way it always is when she sleeps; she doesn’t like the feeling of it sticking to the back of her neck.

As she watches, Basira’s eyebrows draw together, her forehead crinkling, and her mouth opens to form a perfect ‘o.’ She makes that same low whine again, this time clutching at the sheets, her knuckles tense. Daisy reaches over and lays a careful hand on her shoulder.

“’Sira?” she mutters.

Instantly, Basira is awake and alert, throwing off the duvet and reaching under her pillow for a weapon that’s no longer there – a remnant of the time when the world had disintegrated so spectacularly and left them to fend for themselves. Her eyes dart wildly around the room, checking the shadows for monsters, until they come to rest on Daisy, on the way that she’s reaching for Basira slowly, carefully, as though not to spook her.

Daisy pauses, her hand still hovering an inch above Basira’s. Basira closes the distance, holding Daisy’s hand like a lifeline. A tear rolls down her cheek.

“Sorry,” she says. “Nightmare.”

Daisy sits up and scoots closer to Basira, wrapping one arm around her shoulders. Basira instantly relaxes into the touch, leaning down and burying her face in the crook of Daisy’s neck. She breathes evenly, in and out, and the air tickles Daisy’s collar bone.

“Want to talk about it?” she asks.

Basira hums. Outside, a spattering of rain hits the window. “It was you,” she says, after a moment’s hesitation. “When you went after the Hunters. Thought I lost you again for a second.”

Daisy squeezes her shoulder. “I’m here,” she mutters. “I’m right here.”

“I know,” says Basira. She presses a kiss to Daisy’s neck. Daisy buries her nose in Basira’s hair and inhales the familiar spice of her shampoo, warm and sweet, mixed with sweat, the way Basira has smelled ever since the first time Daisy got close enough to notice.

“Want a glass of water?” Daisy asks.

Basira shakes her head and wraps her arms around Daisy’s middle, loose enough that Daisy can still breathe. She curls one hand around Daisy’s ribs and strokes small circles with her index finger, raising goosebumps on Daisy’s flesh. “Don’t leave,” she says, and her lips brush once more against the place where Daisy’s neck meets her shoulder.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Daisy mumbles.

They stay like that for a while, long enough that Basira’s breathing slows and deepens. Daisy tugs her back down and eases her under the covers. She pulls the duvet up and smooths it out over Basira’s shoulders, then presses kisses to her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, her lips, until the lines of Basira’s face smooth out into sleep. She watches Basira for a while, resisting the gentle tug of sleep until she can’t keep her eyes open any longer. When she begins to drift, she grabs Basira’s hand where it clutches at the blankets, gives it a gentle squeeze, and lets Basira’s presence guide her into her dreams.


End file.
